


nos. 17 & 48

by petitepeach



Series: prompt fills [5]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: AU, M/M, Prompt Fill, because obvi, they all work at the louvre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 07:58:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19719475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petitepeach/pseuds/petitepeach
Summary: for the prompts -"looks like we'll be trapped her for a while."&"boo!"





	nos. 17 & 48

Lucas doesn’t hate his job at the Louvre. Not consistently. He only hates it sometimes.

Like now, when he’s scrambling down the stairs towards the administration office at a breakneck speed. He takes a sharp right as soon as he hits the ground level, towards an empty, dark corridor with a single door at the end of it.

Wessler is probably still yelling upstairs, at the same volume he was when Lucas left, spit flying from his mouth.

“Well, I don’t care! They’ll be here in an hour and we still have to set it up! Someone go downstairs and find me where that fucking USB went! _And where the fuck is Demaury?_ ”

Daphné had turned to Lucas and mouthed, _Lucas, go, right now_ , so Lucas had slipped out of the door without anyone noticing. He’s not even really sure what’s on the USB, just that it’s Very Important Information required for the donors meeting they were holding that morning before the museum opened.

It’s a Tuesday. It’s 8 a.m. Lucas doesn’t even work in admin. And neither does Eliott, actually, but that didn’t stop him from disappearing when he was sent on the same mission. Maybe Eliott just decided enough was enough and left for a coffee. Lucas can understand that.

He swipes his key card into the door bursts inside, breathing heavily and scanning the room. There are two large tables filled with powered-down computers, file folders everywhere, and neatly-sorted pencils and highlighters sticking out of ceramic mugs. Lucas doesn’t see any memory sticks.

“Boo.”

Lucas shrieks, letting go of the door and jumping backwards, his elbow smacking hard into something that causes the door to slam shut.

“Oh _shit_ ,” It’s Eliott, scrambling out from behind a desk, the knees of his trousers dusty, his hair messy. He lunges for the door just as its slamming, but misses it, hand grasping onto nothing.

Lucas, for his part, is standing there his his hands clutching at his throat like he’s a rich lady in a Hitchcock film who’s just discovered a body. Horrified. Confused. 

“Eliott, what the _fuck_.”

Eliott is muttering to himself, yanking on the door handle. “I think you may have locked us in.”

 _What._ “What?”

Eliott jiggles at the door handle more furiously. “Shit, did you hit the emergency lock bar? I think it’s jammed shut.”

Lucas whirls around to the door. “Hit the what? Why is that something that exists?”

“It’s on the back of every door. In case of security threats?” At Lucas’s dubious look, Eliott throws his hands out to the side. “They brief us about it every week!”

“I don’t…” Lucas coughs into his fist. “I don’t really pay attention during those.”

“Well, no shit.” Eliott sounds long-suffering when he says, “Normally we should be able to get it open again from this side, but I think _you’ve_ broken it somehow.”

“Okay,” Lucas retorts hotly. “Why the fuck would you scare me like that? What were you even doing?”

“I’m looking for that USB! The same thing I’ve been doing for like, half an hour!”

“You were looking behind a desk?”

“I thought it might have fallen!”

Lucas realizes, belatedly, that they’re actually yelling at each other about a hard drive, while standing locked in a dark, cramped office space. Inside one of the most famous museums in the world.

People weren’t kidding when they said adult life was weird.

“Right.” Lucas pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Let’s just…figure this out. Can’t we call out to the office upstairs?”

“That would be a good idea,” Eliott groans, thumping his head against the locked door, “if the phones down here weren’t still busted.”

Oh yeah. Lucas forgot about that.

He really needs to start paying attention to those morning briefings. 

Eliott turns to him suddenly, face brightening. “But you have your phone on you, right?”

Now it’s Lucas’s turn to groan. “No. I left it upstairs.”

Just like that, the brightness from Eliott’s face disappears. “Shit.”

“Shit,” Lucas agrees.

There’s a moment of silence where it sinks in for both of them. The reality of being trapped in a dark, cramped office space in one of the most famous museums in the world with a coworker that you’re we-talk-in-the-kitchen friendly with but not let’s-get-trapped-together friendly with.

“This is not how I thought this day would go,” Lucas says mournfully.

“I dunno.” Eliott is standing back from the door, planting his hands on his hips. “Maybe it’s not so bad.”

Lucas squints at him. “How do you figure?”

“Well, it looks like we’ll be trapped for a while, long enough that we might have to miss the meeting.”

Lucas brightens at that.

“And,” Eliott says grandly, sweeping an arm towards the back of the office, “they have a coffee machine in here.”

“Oh, thank Christ.”

It actually is appealing, the idea of missing the dreaded donors meeting, where each department has to give a brief presentation about any potential acquisitions, and any new restoration developments. Lucas doesn’t even know why he has to be there. He’s a junior-level employee in the sculptures department. All he’s going to do is pass out Daphné’s colour-coded notes and then spend the rest of the meeting standing near the door awkwardly.

It’s even more appealing to be trapped with Eliott Demaury, the new guy working in Impressionism that has had everyone in the museum aflutter for a whole month.

“Did you see him?” Emma had grabbed onto Lucas’s jacket as soon as he’d stepped into their office on the morning of Eliott’s first day. “There’s this new guy, he’s working in paintings, something, whatever, and he’s _so_ hot.”

“So hot!” Alexia echoed behind her, carrying a mug of tea and a stack of catalogues.

Lucas hadn’t been that impressed at the time, but later that day he’d gone to make coffee in the staff kitchen and had nearly collided with someone, a tall, handsome, and smiling someone.

_Eliott Demaury._

All it took was Eliott saying hello to him, offering him a pastry from a cardboard box, and that was it for Lucas.

They’ve become friends, kind of. At least, as good friends you can be with a colleague who works in a different department and who you’re also harbouring a big gay crush on.

But there they are, locked in admin and making coffee, dumping tiny packets of sugar into their mugs. 

“You put in way too much,” Lucas says.

Eliott is unbothered. “I like sweet things.”

They sit at one of the desks and play tic-tac-toe. They crumple up pieces of paper and shoot them into the recycling bin in the corner. They sprawl onto the ground and stare up at the ceiling, drifting in and out of conversation.

“How are things, lately? In Impressionism.” Lucas knows it’s lame, to ask about work while they’re at work, but he’s genuinely curious, and he wants Eliott to keep talking. Lucas likes his voice.

“Things are good,” Eliott says, leaning onto his forearms. Lucas tries very hard not to admire his profile in the low light. “Nothing much going on lately except everyone losing their minds over this meeting.”

Lucas laughs. “Yeah. Same for us in sculptures.” 

“Yeah.” Eliott picks at a loose thread on his trousers. Lucas traces a shape into the carpet with a fingertip, so he almost misses it when Eliott asks, casually, “How was that date you went on last week?”

Lucas blinks at the ground, slowly raises his head, but Eliott is still looking down at his lap. “What?”

“I heard you talking to Emma and Alexia about it. A guy you met on Tinder, right?”

Lucas can feel his mouth hanging open. When had he been talking to Emma and Alexia about it? On Thursday, when they all left for a coffee break, heading out to a cafe across the street. Lucas can’t even remember running into Eliott that day.

Maybe he’s silent for too long, processing, because Eliott adds, “I saw you talking to them in the lobby, before you guys left. You didn’t see me.”

“Right,” Lucas says, still trying to comprehend the fact that _Eliott_ is asking him about a date he went on. Why does he want to know? Is he curious? Just making small talk? Or is he— “Honestly, it was really terrible.” Lucas laughs. “We went to this awful restaurant that was way overpriced and he talked about himself the entire time.”

Eliott makes a face. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine. Bad Tinder dates happen.” Lucas pauses. “He also told me right at the start of the date that I wasn’t his usual type.”

Lucas internally cringes at the memory. _Usually I date like, models, you know? Really good-looking people. But you’re okay, you know._

“So…” Eliott is looking up at Lucas now, confusion colouring his face. “He doesn’t go for cute brunettes with blue eyes?”

Lucas is blushing, he knows he is, and he can’t hold Eliott’s gaze right now, not when Eliott called him _cute_ and Lucas feels like he’s two seconds away from collapsing back into the carpet with cartoon hearts dancing around his head. “Well.” He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“What do you usually like to do, on a date?”

Lucas shrugs, again, tries so hard to act casual when he says, “It doesn’t really matter. As long as I’m with someone I like, it could be anything.” 

“Hm.” Eliott nods, seems to accept this. But then, “Alright, but if I asked you on a date, what would you want to do?”

There’s a smile stretching across Lucas’s face now, because this is what they’re doing, isn’t it? They’re flirting. Eliott wants to ask Lucas out. Lucas might combust with anticipation.

Lucas props himself up on one elbow, leans closer to where Eliott is sprawled out. “If you asked me on a date, I’d want you to surprise me. I like being surprised.”

Eliott’s eyes are hooded, heavy. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” Then Lucas shrugs and leans back to the wall, “but you haven’t actually asked me on a date yet, so I guess we’ll never know.” 

“Go on a date with me.” Eliott blurts it out in a rush. “Please?”

Lucas feels like lightning is zipping up his spine. He feels like he’s standing at the mouth of the ocean. He feels like he’s in a hot air balloon. He feels like his heart is too big for his body.

It’s a miracle he’s able to get out an, “Alright,” in response.

The smile Eliott gives him is one of _relief_ , and Lucas is just start to grasp that when the door is forced open, and daylight floods into the office.

Daphné and Imane are standing there, the former holding a stack of folders, frowning disapprovingly, while the latter is swinging a memory stick around on her finger, smirking.

“ _There_ you are!” Daphné steps inside and actually grasps Lucas by the arm, pulling him up. “The meeting is starting in five minutes.”

“We found the USB,” Imane sing-songs, sending Eliott a look that is too quick for Lucas to decipher. But whatever it is makes Eliott blush, makes him send a look back at Imane that has her tilting her head back to laugh. “These doors are so tricky aren’t they,” she says lightly, turning back into the corridor. “Always getting locked at the worst moments.”

Daphné follows her out, but for a moment, Lucas and Eliott stay in there, pointedly staring and not staring at each other.

“So,” Lucas starts.

Eliott interrupts him. “Are you free tonight?”

Lucas smiles so wide his cheeks are bunching with it. He takes a step forward. Then another. “As a matter of fact, I am.” He stops right in front of Eliott. “Can you plan a date by tonight?”

Eliott scoffs. “Of course I can. I know the perfect place.” He pauses for a moment, considering. “Do you have a flashlight at home?”

Lucas blinks. “What? No. I don’t think so.”

Eliott hums. “That’s fine. I can bring you one.”

“Why do you need to—”

But Eliott is disappearing down the hallway, whistling to himself, hands in his pockets. When he notices Lucas hans’t followed him, he calls back, “Are you coming or what?”

And Lucas goes.

**Author's Note:**

> (disclaimer: the author knows absolutely nothing about working at the louvre)
> 
> thanks for reading!!
> 
> come chat on tumblr if you like [@lepetitepeach](https://lepetitepeach.tumblr.com)


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